


Angel

by NegansOtherWife



Series: Tumblr Requests [15]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daddy Dom Negan (Walking Dead), Daddy Kink, F/M, Innocence, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-07 02:54:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17952317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NegansOtherWife/pseuds/NegansOtherWife
Summary: Negan has a daddy kink.





	Angel

**Author's Note:**

> i was told to write a cg/lg but idk i'm not sure it exactly came out that way...tada! x

The urge to touch them is a pulsating feeling. You’d been watching them from your bedroom window, an undulating mass of diseased flesh and decaying bones when the intrusive thought had wormed its way beneath your skin. _Go to them_. The need to look them in their dull grayish eyes and ask them all the questions that the universe had left unanswered is compelling. It only takes moments upon your arrival for your perspective to change. You find yourself oddly sympathizing with the half of a woman tied to a wooden stake and the head of a man with only one eye.

One, in particular, the shell of a man wearing a sports jersey seems to draw you closer to the chained link fence. His features are a permanent grimace marred with a viscous liquid leaking from a gash on his forehead. He must know what it’s like to suffer from an ever-present wandering feeling, you realize. As if you’re always three steps behind your own body. With a gargled groan, he clumsily reaches through the fence, beckoning you to take his hand. 

You raise your own, planning to meet him halfway when a firm grip envelopes your small wrist, wrenching you backward and into a hard surface. “Just what in the flying fuck do you think you’re going? Cause it sure as shit can’t be what I’m thinking.” 

His looming presence practically eclipses the sun, and along with the light you find that he’s stolen the breath from your lungs. You couldn’t answer even if you tried. “Speak the fuck up. Now,” The bones in your wrist scream in protest. 

“I was just looking, honest.” You yelp, helplessly tugging at his unceasing grip. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Sorry don’t mean shit, little girl.” He clicks his tongue, pulling you along the length of the fence where there aren’t many walkers. There’s a sense of relief for a moment when he finally lets go of your wrist, only for him to seize a fistful of hair at the scruff of your neck. He presses your face firmly into the fence, the metal wiring unforgivably cutting into your skin. “There are rules.” He pronounces each word, letting them linger in the stifling air. 

Of course, you know this. You’d only wanted to see the biters for a second and then slip back inside. 

You don’t dare give him that excuse. 

It doesn’t take the dead long to notice your presence. They shuffle along the fence, reaching for your struggling figure.

“Next time you think about breaking a rule, think about this shit.” He hisses quietly in your ear. With bated breaths, you both watch the same walker from before reach out a hand to curl around the rungs of metal just inches below your face. Negan quickly snatches you backward and out of reach with a deep grunt. “Get your ass inside before I change my mind and let Freddy here take a chomp out of your little ass.”

He leaves without another word, a pair of heavy footsteps that gradually fade. 

The severity of what you’d experienced seems to settle over you like a slow moving storm. It begins with a slight stinging behind your eyes. Next, it’s a small sniffle before you’re full on whimpering. Your tears, for the most part, are drowned out by the dead. Yes, you’d acted irresponsibly, but that didn’t stop you from instantly letting your displease of the experience be known. 

His soft sigh makes you whimper. He’s still here, hadn’t gone more than a few steps. “Fucking hell, Angel. Don’t just stand there crying. You’re gonna make me start feeling shit.”

“Angel?” You question softly. 

He motions to your outfit. A matching set of white linens that your brother-in-law had found on a run. 

“Dressed in all white and frolicking among the dead, seems fitting.” He grins wryly. “You know my name?”

“Negan,” You nod, biting at your lip. “You’re the boss.”

“Damn straight, Angel.” A long pause on his part, so long you start to squirm under his searching gaze. Self-consciously, you wipe at your tears. Finally, he says, “Let’s go.” 

You take his outstretched hand, letting him lead you into the drafty factory and up several flights of stairs. It’s nice for the time being to feel grounded to something, feel as if you’re not alone. Negan never once lets go of your hand, occasionally stopping to talk to some of his Savior’s or bark out a random order. He seems entirely at ease as he leads you into his spacious office and around the side of his desk. Unsure of what to do, you wait while he settles into his seat.

“Am I still in trouble?” You’re generally curious.

“Hmm, should you be?” He pats his lap once before impatiently pulling you into his embrace. He’s warm from the sun rays and vaguely smells of something earthy. Shaking your head, you relax against his long frame with a soft sigh. “That’s what I thought. Now, tell me. Who do you live with, Angel? You seem better off than most.” His hands brush the frills that line the armholes of your shirt. It’s your favorite outfit. 

“My brother-in-law, Tony. He takes care of me, but he’s gone a lot.” Tony had been good to you after your sister had died, stepping up and taking responsibility for someone he wasn’t even related to. He’d clothed you. Kept you in a lovely room and always had something for you when he returned from his trips. Mostly you felt that he was gone a lot because he couldn’t stand to look at you. You were too much like her. 

“You’re Big T’s sister, huh? Good man, even better worker,” He seems to mull over that morsel of information, a hand gently rubbing circles into your lower back as he does. “Must get lonely with him gone all the time?”

“Sometimes.” You tentatively lean into his broad chest, nestling your face into the crook of his neck. “I like to take walks to past the time."

“Your face hurt?” 

You nod.

“Good.” 

You think, maybe it is. You’d certainly learned your lesson. 

“Hungry?”

You nod. 

He sharply whistles and instantly there’s a knock at the door. A scarred man hesitantly pokes his head in before meekly stepping into the room. His eyes hold questions once he realizes that Negan isn’t alone in his office, yet he refrains from asking them. “Yeah, boss?”

“Bring me two plates of whatever they're serving for lunch and tell Tony to come and find me.” Negan’s hand travels the expanse of your lower back, finding a path beneath your shirt to brush fingertips along bare skin. Your breath hitches, tummy tightening at his soft touches. “You want anything else, Angel?”

“Um, cookies?” You ask hopefully. 

You had such a sweet tooth. 

Negan smirks, “You heard her, D. Get the damn woman some cookies.”

You find yourself alone with him once more, studying his features with an inquisitive expression. You’re sure that you’re supposed to be scared of him, you’d certainly heard stories of his brutish temper. All you can focus on is how safe you feel in his lap — what a conundrum.

“You’re very handsome.” You quietly note. He’d taken to scribbling on a small stack of papers. Probably paperwork. His hand drops, softly cupping your chin with a small smile. 

“Thank you, Angel.” He places a kiss softer than a flower petal onto your forehead. A spasm of joy nudges its way into your chest. Your heart flutters with delight. 

There’s a rasping at the door that pulls the two of you apart. Dwight kicks the door open, a tray in hand with your brother trailing behind. He’s older since you’d last seen him, dressed in a beard and a sad pair of eyes. “Y/N, what’s going on?” He softly rasps. 

You shrug daintily because even you’re not sure. All that you know is that you like it immensely. 

“Take a seat, Tony. You’re just in time for lunch.” Negan beckons. 

Dwight places a tray in front of him before another materializes in front of you. A plate of chicken and mashed potatoes. There’s also a plate of sugar cookies that seem to beckon to you — their fresh and your absolute favorite. 

A soft warning in your ear. “Eat first, Angel.”  

He holds up a forkful, and you readily accept the bite, chewing thoughtfully. Two mouthfuls later he addresses your brother who’s face has twisted into an unreadable expression. “Must be hard leaving her while you’re out on runs, T.” It’s a rhetorical inquiry, you’re sure. “Found her by the fence about to get her cute ass munched on.”

He pinches the ass in question, and you squeal lightly from the pain that the action brings with it. 

“She’s practically twenty-three, Negan.” Tony sets down his fork with a heavy sigh. “She’s just always been a bit _young_. I do my best.”

“Not saying that you’re not, Big T. I’m just saying,” He waits for you to accept the bite he offers before continuing, “I can do better.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying.” Negan offers you a cookie with a soft grin. You take it eagerly, biting into the warm treat with a soft hum. “I like you, Tony. So I’m offering you an out, we both know you’re more suited for life on the road. I’m taking her off your hands.”

Tony seems hesitant by Negan’s declaration, and his blue eyes flicker to yours in a silent inquiry. 

“Go on, Angel. Say yes.” The taste of your cookie seems to melt in your mouth as you consider the merits of accepting Negan’s invitation. He’s been very nice besides the fence incident, and you’re pretty sure if you behave they’ll be fewer punishments in your future. Hopefully, there will be more cookies too. 

“Okay, yes.” You take another bite. “You’ll take care of me, right?”

“Of course, I will. You’ll be my good girl, won’t you?” He brushes some crumbs from the corner of your mouth with a slight grin. You practically purr beneath his touch, gladly accepting another cookie.

“You sure about this, Negan? I thought you said relationships were a liability?” Tony’s features hold a somewhat resigned expression. He knew, everyone knew—Negan got what he wanted. “Thought you didn’t do ‘em?”

“Can’t explain the shit I feel, T. I don’t have a pussy, neither of us does, and I’m sure as shit not gonna sit here and talk about my feelings. I want her, and she’s mine now. Aren’t you, Angel?” 

If there’s more of this, soft touches and a full belly filled with yummy treats—you want it. “I’ll be okay, Tony. He’s been very nice and patient with me.” Your head cocks. “We both know you hate it here.”

He gazes at you sheepishly. “I do have to head out, hun. Got another run—two weeks.”

“I understand.” You shrug. 

He leaves with just a fleeting look, promising to bring you something of interest.  

“Hot damn, it’s like shooting fish in a barrel. Ain’t it, Princess?” Negan rearranges you so that you’re straddling his lap, twining his arms around your waist and up the back of your shirt when you’ve settled comfortably. You arch at the feeling, delighting in the unsolicited affection. 

“Can I have more cookies, please?” It’s worth a try. 

“Later, Angel.” He licks his lips. “Will you do something for me?”

His breathing becomes labored as you hesitantly agree.

“Call me Daddy. Go on; I can’t wait to hear you say it.” He urges.

“Oh. Um, Daddy?” You’re slightly taken aback by his request, but you can’t deny the act does send a pleasurable buzz down your spine. You’d just been taken from your brother and given to this man with such a strange desire. It’s a bit confusing, but you decide to try again. “Thank you, Daddy. For the cookies, I mean.”

Negan seems to savor each word as they drip from your lips, pulling you closer so that he can practically taste your hesitancy and intrigue. “I’ve been waiting for someone like you. You’re just the right kind of innocence wrapped in a beautiful fucking package.” With a soft sigh, he seals his lips against your own. With a stroking tongue, he wetly explores your mouth letting the tips of his fingers brush the underside of your breasts in passing. You release a soft mewl, pressing your chest firmly into his hands. 

He gruffly inquires, “You want more, Angel?” 

Licking your lip, you taste the remnants of him on your tongue. He’s all sharp eyes and heavy breathing. The prominent bulge that you straddle is only half of what he’s offering. 

Instead of releasing himself from his jeans, he urges you to stand and shed your clothes. You’re completely naked as you straddle his jean-clad legs, too intrigued by this enigma of a man to feel even a bit self-conscious. 

“This is better than the cookies.” You softly remark, watching his hands travel along the inseam of your thighs. He brushes the soft curls before seeking out your achy bundle of nerves. He presses firm circles into your sex, spearing you with his ring finger as the palm of his hand cups your mound. “Mhmm, much better.” You sigh. 

“You took your punishment like a good girl, Angel.” He makes a come hither motion with his fingers, your wetness seeping onto his hand as you jerk and shudder. The lewd sounds of him fucking you with his fingers fill the room sending a shot of liquid heat into your very core. “You want your reward for agreeing to be my angel?” He hums softly, watching you fall apart in his hands.

“Please?” You swallow hard, reaching for his zipper. “Can I sit on it, Daddy? Can I sit on your cock?”

He harshly exhales and there's a flurry of movements, clothing becomes pushed aside and skin bared to eager eyes. He’s warm in your hand, leaking from the tip and practically pulsating. “Go on, Princess. Touch my cock, its all for you.” He seals his mouth over a nipple, sucking at the hardened tip. 

Your fingers trail along the underside of his cock, pausing shortly to swirl the wetness at the tip. He shudders beneath your touch and you marvel at the thought of being in control of such a powerful man. Negan throws his head back, baring his Adam’s apple and you lurch forward, licking and tasting the skin as you beg him softly. “Please, please. Daddy, I’ve been your good girl. Fuck me, please.” The earth seems to shift on its axis; this is all you’ve ever wanted and more. It fills the cracks and empty gaps in your heart, a soothing ache. 

“That’s it,” Negan groans. His hands fall to the globes of your ass, mashing your clit against his stony cock. They torturously slide against one another, and you’re crying and bucking for more. “Tell me how much you want Daddy’s fat cock in your cunt, little girl.”

He can’t possibly wait. 

“Oh— _Daddy_!” You head drops, choking on a gasp as he fills you with a sudden jerk of his hips. “I—”

You lose the words somewhere on the back of your tongue when his hips flex, rubbing the shaft of his cock along the front wall of your sex. He presses grunts into the crook of your neck as he slowly begins to fuck you. They become louder as you push downward on each of his thrusts, digging your nails into his shoulders as every inch of his thick cock fucks your tight, little pussy. You have the overwhelming urge to scream as pleasure overflows in the pit of your belly, filling your abdomen with this electric feeling. 

“Such a sweet fucking cunny, little girl.” His arms grip your upper in a bruising grip as he stands, lifting you onto the edge of his desk so that his cock sinks deeper into your slick walls with the new angle. “Who’s fucking you, Angel?”

“Daddy’s fucking me!” Your release bears down on you like an impending cyclone. You’d never had toe-curling sex, never begged for a man to fill you so deeply it makes you wince and whine all in the same breath. Never called a man something you thought was taboo. “My Daddy! Fuck me, Daddy. _Ung_ , harder!”

Your cries are like a sweet prayer to his ears, and it isn’t long until Negan's cock is pulsing to the same rhythm as his crashing heart. A thin layer of sweat covers you both, sending you skirting along the table top. Both of you hardly notice. The urge to consume each other, to fuck this festering flame out of your system is everything.

Your throat constricts the same moment that the knot in your belly finally gives. Your inner walls constrict once, a hard, unforgiving embrace around his member before an intense fluttering takes over. 

“Fuck, fuck— _fuck_.” He’s cumming without his body’s consent. You’re milking him of his release, and it paints your walls in thick, hot streams. “That’s it, Angel. Fucking take it all.” His hips flex forward, watching as your hungry body takes every drop of his cum. 

In the aftermath, he can barely stand, and he drags you onto his chair with him, wrapping a loose arm around your shuddering frame. Despite it all, the urge to know is a new kind of feeling that has you speaking before you even realize it. "Um, Negan? How many women couldn’t handle the ‘daddy’ thing’?" You broach the subject tentatively. 

He chuckles breathlessly. “Far too many, Angel.”

“Sucks for them ‘cause your mine now.” You nuzzle further into his chest with a small yawn. “Can I have another cookie, Daddy? I’ll suck your cock.” You offer. 

He cracks a lid, a look of disbelief clear as day on his face. 


End file.
